“Yes,” I said. “Well, the clients were expected so I didn’t mean them.”

Sandra rolled her eyes. “Give me your shoe. And your jacket.”

I had the shoe off before it occurred to me to ask why.

“Because I keep a tube of superglue in my desk,” she said. “And because if you get fired, I’ll end up working for Gordon Wanderhands down the corridor. So give me your jacket, and you’d better retie your tie while I’m at it.”